The Funeral
by WizardWay
Summary: Mary McDonald was dead, dead and never returning. Her funeral, told from the point of view of several important individuals in her life. Written for the Point of View in a Week Challenge


_Marlene_

I swallowed hard as I walked through the cemetery and over to the tent. I couldn't handle this, I really couldn't. Mary was _dead._ When I first heard she was killed by Death Eaters just four days ago, I hadn't believed it. I called Sirius crazy for even suggesting it. That is, until he showed me the body.

I looked up to see Sirius beside me as I took my seat in the third row of the makeshift church . He nodded at me, grey eyes set on a distance far away. I turned to my right to see Lily and James arrive. Lily looked nearly dead – her hair was disheveled and her eyes were puffy and red, probably from crying. Hell, I probably looked like that, too.

I checked my watch. Half past nine. The service was start any moment now. I wasn't ready for it. Seeing her body lifted into the ground would mean that this was final – that she was never really coming back. Every moment I expected her to walk in through the back entryway and say, like always, "What are you lot doing _here? _It's _boring. _Why don't we do something _fun _instead of mope around?"

Mary was like that. She was never sad, never slowed down. She would have been a great asset to help my mood as of now. Except that she was the reason for it.

The minister started speaking. I wasn't paying attention. I was simply looking at the casket. The casket that held her body. I dug my fingernails into my skin to keep from crying.

"It's okay," Sirius murmured to me. "It's alright, soon it'll all be over."

"But it will never be over," I whispered back to him. "Mary will always be dead."

_Alice_

The day of Mary's funeral arrived suddenly. I wished that I didn't have to go. I hated funerals. They were beyond depressing, and everyone cried. But I had to go to this one – I had to pay my last respects to Mary.

"Are you ready to go?" My husband, Frank, came in through the foyer, pulling on his jacket.

"No," I swallowed. "Let's go, anyway."

"That's that attitude to have," Frank laid a lingering kiss on my cheek.

The two of us Apparated out of our house and to the cemetery. The sucking sensation of Apparation didn't bother me anymore. It always had when I was learning, but it had stopped in the past few days. Maybe it was the shock of losing my best friend.

As we walked through the tent, I saw many of my friends, other members of the Order of The Phoenix, and Mary's parents, sitting in the front row. Her mother was sniffling while her father simply sat there like a stone. If Mary's death was hard for me, it must be absolutely _unbearable _to her parents. Mary was their only child.

Frank and I sat in the fourth row, directly behind Lily and James. Lily had out a handkerchief and was wiping her eyes. James had his arm around her.

My friend Dorcas slid into the seat beside me, shaking slightly. I tried to smile at her, but it came out more like a grimace. I sighed. I didn't think anyone could get over this.

The minister began to speak about Mary's life. "She was a delightful girl, top of her class in school, a superb witch, and a great friend."

This guy had it all wrong. Mary wasn't delightful – back when we were at Hogwarts she found joy in waking us up at the crack of dawn singing stupid Muggle show tunes with Marlene. She was anything but top of the class – she left her work off until the last minute constantly. But no one could deny that she was a great friend. A true friend. My best friend.

_Frank_

Alice sat beside me, tears running down her cheeks. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew that it would be impossible. Nothing could help this.

Remus Lupin sat to my left with his girlfriend, Dorcas. The pair both had tears as well. I looked around the room. I didn't see any face without tears. Except mine.

I couldn't explain why I wasn't crying. God knows I wanted to. Mary was a great person, and her death was devastating. So why couldn't I cry?

Maybe I was just all out of tears. Last month, my younger brother Liam had been killed. Liam was only fourteen, still at Hogwarts, and killed when Hogsmeade was invaded by Death Eaters. Why was it _Liam _that was killed out of all others? Why was it _Mary _killed out of all others? Life just wasn't fair.

_Lily_

I didn't want to go. I begged one of my best friends, Marlene, to let me stay at our flat. She wouldn't let me. Now we were here.

The funeral was depressing. No one smiled, no one laughed. Mary would have laughed if she were here.

"Are you alright?" My fiancée, James, whispered to me as the service began.

"No," I said.

The minister presiding had been speaking for a time now. I only caught bits of it. "Great person…wonderful friend…sorely missed…"

They were just empty words, made to make us feel better, to remember Mary as she was before her death. But there was nothing behind them. The damn minister hadn't even known Mary. How could he say things like that if he had never even known her? I couldn't take this anymore.

"James?" I whispered.

"What is it, Lily?" James said softly, looking at me. I was surprised to see tears brimming in his eyes. He and Mary had never been close. They'd really only known one another for around a year.

"I need to go," I said, tears spilling over my eyelids. "I don't care where, just anywhere but here."

"We have to wait for the service to be over, Lils," James put his arm around me. I buried my face in his shoulder. "I promise, though, as soon as it's over, we're going out to that Muggle ice cream shop you love so much and you'll get a double helping of cookie dough."

"Thanks, James," I gave him a watery smile. "I can always count on you."

_Dorcas_

I hate the world.

I'm usually the cheerful one, the optimist, in my group of friends. But right now, I truly hate the world.

Only a cruel, unfeeling world would banish Mary McDonald from its grasp. I could imagine it barring me, or even Lily, Marlene, or Alice. It could have gotten rid of Remus, James, Sirius, or Frank without a second thought. But not Mary. Never Mary.

If any living person had never committed a sin, it was Mary McDonald. Sure, she was lazy. Maybe she put of her homework until the last possible second back at school. And she could care a bit too much about her hair. But she was the best one – out of all of us. No one could compare to Mary McDonald.

As the minister spoke, I buried my head in the rook of Remus's arm.

"It's okay," Remus murmured to me, stroking my hair. "The service is almost over."

"Remus, who's next?" I lifted my head to look in his soft amber eyes. "Which one of us will be the next to go? We're all members of the Order – any of us could be next. Sometimes I wonder if we should just quit – quit the fighting, the resistance."

"That's the grief talking," Remus said firmly. "Don't you think that what Mary did was worth her death? She died protecting civilians from terrible men and women, she gave up her life in the hope of a better world. In my view, there's no better way to go. I'd love to die protecting you, James, Sirius, Lily – anyone. Because your lives are worth more than mine. It would be an honor to me."

"Don't ever say that, Remus," I cried harder. "You're just as good as the rest of us I couldn't live without you."

"But you have to, if I ever die," he told me. "Just like you have to keep going on now that Mary's gone. Whatever happens, keep going, keep fighting."

I took his words to heart.

_Andromeda_

As I scanned the morning Prophet, a certain bit caught my eye. It was a death announcement – Mary McDonald.

I gave a start as I read the name. I remembered Mary clearly. When I was seventeen, she was eleven and a first-year Gryffindor. I saw Sirius teasing her one day and told him off. She had thanked me immensely – she was quite the timid little girl. I told her not to let him press her buttons, to stand up to him.

The next time I saw her a few months later; she had just hit Sirius with the Jelly-Legs Jinx and had a satisfied smirk on her face. When she saw me watching, she raced over and thanked me earnestly for showing her how to stand up to people. I had always felt proud that I had made a difference in a young girl's life.

Now she was dead. It said her funeral was today – starting in five minutes. I glanced over at my five-year-old daughter, Nymphadora. She and her father were engaged in The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, a story from the Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"Ted!" I called to my husband.

"Just a second, Dora," he set down the little girl and came over. "What's the matter, 'Dromeda?" he asked, concerned. It must have been my expression.

I waved the newspaper. "One of Sirius's old schoolmates died. I'm going to the funeral."

"That's terrible," Ted said. "If Sirius is there, tell him I say hello. When should I expect you back?"

"No more than an hour," I told him. I turned to Nymphadora. "Be good for Daddy, okay?"

"I don't like good," Dora said scrunching up her nose. "It's not fun."

I gave a small laugh. "Well, just do your best." I Apparated with a pop.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself at the address on the newspaper – Abney Park Cemetery. I saw a throng of people congregating to my right in what looked like a large tent. I made my way over.

It took no more than a few minutes to make my way through the crowd and into the tent, but I still ended up being a bit late. I made my entrance as quietly as possible and slid into the back row.

The minister spoke very clearly and enunciated properly. This was probably why he was chosen for the job. I listened to him speak of Mary's life, of what she accomplished and who she was. As he spoke, I glanced about the tent.

I caught a glimpse of Sirius up in front – no one could miss his trademark black hair. He had his arm around a brown-haired girl who must have been his girlfriend. I frowned slightly, surprised he hadn't told me about her. In his defense, I hadn't seen him for two years, since he was sixteen. A lot could change between sixteen and eighteen.

The service, as I predicted, lasted an hour. I shed a few tears. I had never known Mary McDonald personally, but I did know that she obviously meant a lot to people, and that she would definitely, in the words of the minister, be sorely missed.

_Peter_

I debated not going to the funeral. Of course I wanted to pay my respects to Mary – she had been a good friend. But I didn't know if I could cope with the guilt.

I had been the Order member to tell the others where the Death Eaters were planning on attacking. Everyone said it wasn't my fault that I had gotten the information wrong; that they were really in the Leaky Cauldron instead of Diagon Alley. It wasn't my fault that the Death Eaters could hear them coming and were ready for them.

But it was my fault. I had _purposefully _given the information wrong. You-Know-Who had threatened me. He would have killed me if I didn't tell them wrong. I didn't want to die, so I told him. I didn't think that anyone I knew would die.

How wrong I was. Mary had been one of two killed – the other being Abigail Jones. And I was responsible for it.

I ended up going anyway – my friends would have been suspicious if I hadn't. As I sat there, in the fourth row, I pondered my life.

You-Know-Who would surely use me as an informant again. He knew I was no real Gryffindor._ I_ knew I was no real Gryffindor. If James, Sirius, or Remus had been in my place, they would have died rather than give away information. But I wasn't brave like them.

The minister spoke of Marlene's life, of how good a person she was. Lily was crying on James's shoulder, Dorcas on Remus's, Marlene on Sirius's, and Alice on Frank's. I was the only one without a partner.

It used to be me and Mary who didn't have significant others. We would joke about being the only two. It resulted in us spending a lot of time together. I had actually been considering asking her out.

But that was over now. Mary was dead, never returning. It was my fault, all my fault. I think I cried more than anyone.

_Mary McDonald will be sorely missed._


End file.
